


Be vigilant, I beseech you

by SecondStarOnTheLeft



Series: Good Intentions 2020 [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondStarOnTheLeft/pseuds/SecondStarOnTheLeft
Summary: Lady Sansa, regent to Lord Stark, receives a letter requesting her presence in the Dragon Queen's court. She had so hoped to avoid the Queen, and even more so her Hand.
Series: Good Intentions 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978876
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63
Collections: Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs





	Be vigilant, I beseech you

**Author's Note:**

> This was in my drafts as "SansaTyrion Divorce fic" but I have no idea what I intended with it, I'm afraid!

Sansa's hands shake uncontrollably, and she knows that she ought to be braver, but how can she be?

She knows what this letter will say. She knows it deep in her bones, knows that it's a miracle she has escaped this long without this letter, but even so, she cannot quite face up to it.

It is heavy, expensive vellum sealed with a perfect scarlet circle of wax, delivered by a courier dressed in the Queen's livery, deep black trimmed with scarlet and silver. His horse is a long-legged blood bay, a fine creature with a braided mane and tail, and even his stirrups gleam with silver, every facet of this invader a display of the Queen's wealth and power. He is one of the Queen's Essosi followers, a handsome boy with smooth brown skin and warm brown eyes, and he watches Sansa with open appreciation as she takes the letter from his outstretched hand.

"Emmon," she calls to the steward. "See that the Queen's messenger is well taken care of, will you?"

She does not hear his response. She is too concerned with the letter in her hands to hear Emmon's response, or Arya's query, or Rickon's worry. The letter weighs in her hands like a noose around her neck, because she knows what it says. She knows that this letter is an order to resume an unwanted marriage dressed up in an invitation to reunite with a long-lost husband. She knows that this letter is her farewell to Winterfell, her goodbye to Rickon and Arya, to any hope of seeing Bran again, to what friends she has made since her return to the North. 

She bars the door of her chambers when she gets there, knowing as she does that Arya will follow her if she does not force her out. She needs to read this herself, needs to have the time to weep so she can calm herself down before she must reveal the truth of it all to Arya and Rickon. 

_ Lady Sansa of the House Lannister _ , she reads, in hand that must be the Queen's own, and she takes a deep breath before reading on.

* * *

"I have been invited to attend upon the Queen," she announces over dinner that night, when it is just her and Arya and Rickon. "She is of the opinion that I have been shirking my duties - that I, as... As wife to her most loyal Hand, I ought to be first among her ladies, the second lady of her court, after herself."

"She cannot possibly expect you to honour that  _ farcical _ marriage the Lannisters forced on you," Arya says, her disbelief plain. "You did not willingly wed the Imp, surely she would not-"

"She has," Sansa says, taking the letter from her sleeve and passing it across the table. "She has invited me to come south and reunite with my husband, who she writes is eager for our reunion."

Sansa feels sick at the thoughts of reuniting with her erstwhile husband - he was kind to her, yes, she will never deny that, but surely he will seek to claim his rights now, after so long? She does not have the innocence of childhood to hide behind now, and she is well aware that men desire her. Her husband, well, he is a man, after all, and has the legal right to act upon whatever desire he might feel for her.

"I would rather not return to King's Landing, of course," she says, forcing her voice to lightness, so Rickon doesn't come to fully understand just how upset she is. "I suppose that- that Casterly Rock is my rightful place now, other than my husband's side, but I shall go to him first, and then..."

Then she will have to be his wife in truth, and she will have to bear  _ Lannister  _ children with  _ Lannister  _ names and the  _ Lannister _ look. But Rickon does not need to know that, does not need to have that weight on his heart when she leaves, so she smiles.

"And then, who knows?" she offers. Arya is still reading the letter - there are a great deal of small details at the end, things that the Queen expects of Sansa, oaths she expects in writing from Rickon, and Arya's brow furrows as she reads further - and so Sansa does not feel any guilt when she moves to crouch before Rickon's chair. Rickon is ten years old now, Arya nearing six-and-ten, and they are so mature, so wonderfully adult, that Sansa ought not feel any true worry about leaving them. She does, though, she hardly dares to believe it when Rickon  _ knows _ her, cannot stand it when Arya smiles from under her hair like Father once did, and she fears that perhaps they will lose all that they have gained if the three of them are not together. She knows that she will, knows that she could just as easily slip into the foolish girl she was once, long ago, for fear of being a prisoner in King's Landing again, or that she will grow into the terrible person she was becoming in the Vale. 

"I would rather you remain with me," Rickon says uncertainly, taking her hands when she offers them to him. "I would not have you leave as you did before."

"Oh, sweetling," she sighs, shaking her head. "I would not leave you, if the choice was mine, but an invitation from the Queen is an order, in truth, and I cannot refuse her. Had I the choice I would stay with you forever, you know that, but I must go to King's Landing. I- I must go to my husband." 

It will take some weeks for preparations to be made, of course. Sansa knows that she will need huge amounts of supplies if she rides all the way to King's Landing, even with a rest stop at Lord Harroway's Town to replenish, unless they only take the kingsroad as far south as the western fork of the White Knife, and then sled down the river to White Harbour and then sail to the capital. Even then, it will take two weeks to reach White Harbour, and another two to sail to King's Landing, given the weather conditions and the floating ice in the Bite. 

"I will remain here," Arya says, folding the letter and setting it down beside Sansa's plate. "As regent to Rickon, and because Brandon Tallhart has asked me to marry him. I will say yes, so that at least I can provide solid reasoning to refuse any  _ invitations  _ the Queen might issue to me, if that seems fair to you both."

"I want Lord Karstark to go with you, Sansa," Rickon adds, and she cannot deny him that - Harrion Karstark has been wonderful, a vocal supporter of Rickon's lordship and Sansa's regency, and a strident defender of their refusal to accept either Lord Manderly or some lackey of the Queen's as regent in Sansa's place. He has been a good friend, he and his sister Alys both, in the long days since the war, and Sansa can understand why Rickon, who has taken to Harry Karstark as a brother, would want him to accompany her on such a perilous journey as this.

Arya sits and chews on her lips, saying nothing but thinking so hard that Sansa can practically hear the thoughts spilling through her mind. Arya will have many ideas for this journey, especially since she is resolved to remain behind - and to betroth herself to Brandon Tallhart! Sansa is unsurprised that he asked for Arya's hand, since he has made no secret of his interest in her, but she  _ is _ surprised that Arya is so enthusiastic about accepting the offer.


End file.
